


Not His Sam

by sweetondean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 04:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1374610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetondean/pseuds/sweetondean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a scene that may or may not have taken place post 6.05. After Dean is cured of being a Vampire and realises, that maybe Sam knew more than he was letting on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not His Sam

It all flashed before him, every moment in reverse, right back to the instant he was turned and there, in those final seconds he saw it, he saw his brother, standing still, not running to him, not trying to help him, not calling out his name, just watching, just watching and smiling. While the vampire pinned Dean down and wiped blood across his mouth Sam had simply watched and smiled. He saw it.

As Dean came round from the antidote that flushed the vampire blood from his body, his brother was there beside him, grinning and patting his back. Sam helped Dean stand and Dean let him. Sam hugged Dean and Dean let him. Sam smiled and asked, "How do you feel?" "What?" Dean couldn't register the words, he couldn't hear for the roaring of his own blood in his ears, he couldn't think for the image of that smile searing into his brain. "How do you feel Dean?" "I dunno Sam, tired, dirty, I'm covered in blood and I just spewed up God knows what, I dunno how I feel." He ran his hand through his hair trying to focus, trying to think, he saw what he saw, he knows it, he's sure of it, isn't he? "Sit down Dean, take a moment." Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder and Dean flinched, he couldn't help it. As he looked up into his brother's eyes, those eyes he knew so well, those eyes which had always looked at him with love he saw nothing, there was nothing looking back at him, just a cold, empty, nothing. A shiver crawled down his spine. "Sam, I'm filthy and I really need to brush my teeth, I'm gonna go take a shower ok? We can talk when I'm clean." "Sure thing Dean, take your time" the person who looked like Sam said. Dean shut his eyes, he was exhausted, his bones ached, his head ached, he was confused and angry and he didn't know what. He rummaged through his duffel for clean clothes as Sam and his grandfather talked behind him, but he couldn't hear them, he couldn't hear anything but his own heartbeat, racing, pounding as he replayed it over and over in his mind's eye, that moment, that look, Sam.

Dean closed the bathroom door behind him and leant back against it. He took in a deep shaky breath, "Come on man, keep it together," he whispered to himself. Throwing his clean clothes on the edge of the bath and his toilet bag on the edge of the sink, he peeled off his shirt and jeans. He really did feel disgusting. He was caked in blood from head to toe. It was under his nails, on his face, in his hair. That's what you get when you slaughter a nest of vamps he thought. He chuffed to himself and smiled but then Sam's face flashed through his mind and his smile dropped. Turning on the taps he stepped into the shower and let the almost too hot water run over his body. It felt good on his aching muscles. He grabbed the soap and started to scrub trying desperately not to think, but as he pushed the soap up through his hair his hands began to shake, then his legs and then before he realised what was happening, he was sliding down the wall and onto the tiles of the shower floor. A shuddering sob wracked through his body. Jesus Christ he thought, you are not gonna cry, you are not gonna fucking cry, but as he closed his eyes and tried to fend off the emotion threatening to overwhelm him he saw Sam just standing, watching, smiling. His Sam he raised, his Sam he died for, his Sam he loved above all others, his Sam who let him get turned by a vampire. There was no stopping it, the sobs shook through his body and hot tears streamed down his cheeks. With his hands over his head and his arms covering his face, he let the emotion of the last day, the last hour, the last memory claim him. Banging his head back against the wall he spat out "FUCK". Why can't it ever be easy for them, why is there never a time when they're not at odds, why after everything they've gone through after everything they've sacrificed must there always be more pain. He let his head drop to his knees, curled his arms around his legs and cried bitter, angry tears.

After a few moments Dean looked up, water pouring down onto his face. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, steadied himself and pushed off the floor, sliding up the wall. He washed his body, ran his fingers through his hair, turned off the taps and stepped out of the shower. He saw himself in the mirror, man when'd I get so old he thought, his eyes were red and he just looked plain tired. Towelling off he slipped into his clean clothes, they felt better at least and he brushed his teeth. Splashing cold water on his face, he grabbed his toilet bag and walked towards the bathroom door. He stopped, his hand closing around the doorknob as he shut his eyes and sighed. Steeling himself he lifted his head, drew in a deep breath, opened the door and stepped out to face his grandfather, his grandfather and the Sam that wasn't his.


End file.
